


Sidelined

by breeisonfire



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: College discussions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: Scott's sidelined for the time being and decides to ask Alan about college.





	Sidelined

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of nowhere, Jesus Christ.

Scott’s not good at sitting still. He never has been. He likes to be in the action. He likes the feeling of accomplishing things and helping people. He _lives_ for being Thunderbird One.

He does _not_ like sitting on the sidelines. Moreover, he does not like being forced to sit on the sideline. For any reason.

This time around, he’s sidelined because of a broken leg. There’d been a rockslide and he and Virgil had been digging through the rubble to find any survivors. They’d located them and Virgil had airlifted them out. Scott had been about to jetpack down to where he’d landed Thunderbird One and instead, been caught in another rockslide.

From what he’d been told, he’d been trapped for about three hours due to the instability of the hillside. Gordon and Alan had evidently flown out to help Virgil and eventually they’d managed to dig him out. He doesn’t remember much of it beyond _blinding agony_ in his leg.

The next thing he really remembers is waking up in the hospital, groggy on painkillers with his leg immobilized and Grandma holding his hand. He’d had to have surgery.

And now he’s sidelined indefinitely. His leg has to heal, and he’ll have to do physical therapy to build up the muscle and hopefully retain full range of motion. Assuming that’s even possible.

For now, he’s stuck. He’s got a wheelchair for the time being. He’s got crutches, too, but Scott had tried to use them when he’d first got back. He’d been a little too high on painkillers and had face planted in his room. Gordon had come rushing in and Scott had been fine, but Brains had put his foot down, not wanting to risk further damage. So, wheelchair.

Which isn’t a bad thing. Brains was easily able to make the villa mostly-wheelchair accessible (except the gear-ups, for obvious reasons). The wheelchair is motorized and comfortable. It’s even got a cup holder, which Alan for whatever reason thinks is hilarious.

The _problem_ is that Scott’s antsy. It’s only been a week and his leg still _hurts_. He’s bored. He’s tired, and frustrated. There’s plenty of things for him to do; Tracy Industries has plenty of paperwork at any one time and there’s the budget approval for International Rescue he should go over, but he can’t _focus_.

International Rescue is still operating. Scott knows his brothers have it well in hand. They’re capable, brilliant, highly skilled, and efficient. He knows this. They’ve been in the field hundreds of times without him. They don’t need him hovering over the comm.

He can’t help it. He’s on edge and worrying about his brothers is the only thing he feels good for at the moment.

His family has been putting up with this in very different ways. John just rolls his eyes every time Scott tries to check in with him and eventually relegated him to EOS, whose updates were getting increasingly sassy. Kayo’s stopped answering him entirely, citing that he’s distracting her and also _she knows what she’s doing_. Virgil’s patiently explained at least four times now that they’ve got it covered and that Scott needs to rest. Gordon keeps quoting movies at him when he asks; at this point Scott mostly just keeps checking in with him just to see what else he can quote off the top of his head, because it’s kind of impressive.

Brains is working on a big new project and just starts talking about whatever part he’s developing at the moment until Scott can find a window and hang up. He has no idea what Brains is building at this point. Lady Penelope is at a charity event, and Parker has informed him that she does not plan to answer unless it’s an emergency. If Scott tries to talk to Grandma, she tries to feed him whatever she’s working on and he has no escape, so he’s only done that when he’s desperate.

As for Alan…

Alan seems to understand just _why_ Scott’s constantly in the lounge, listening to the comms and has taken to just sitting there with him when he’s not out in the field. Case in point, Alan’s currently sprawled across the couch next to his gear-up station, holding a tablet over his head. He’s doing school work, although what subject, Scott can’t tell.

It’s quiet. The only sounds are the banter from Gordon and Virgil, with the occasional updates from John. They’re on a rescue - a sinking yacht just off the coast of Florida. Gordon is very unimpressed with both the ship and the people on it. Virgil’s had to admonish Gordon several times for his language within hearing distance of the yacht’s owners, but for the most part, it’s just a routine rescue. They’re getting ready to wrap it up, passing off to the Coast Guard.

They were fine and _will be_ fine, and Scott needs to relax.

Alan distracts him just then, as the tablet slips out of his hands and lands on his face. “Ow!”

He flails and knocks it off of his face to the ground, nearly falling with it. Scott has to laugh, because holy _shit_. Alan’s glaring as he sits up and rubs at his nose, but there’s no heat behind it.

“On that note, I think I’m done with school for today,” he announces, and stretches. “Ugh. I can’t wait to be _done_.”

“Are you gonna go to college?” Scott asks.

The question slips out before he can help it. He’s been thinking about it a lot lately, and even talked about it with John and Grandma on separate occasions. Al’s almost eighteen and hasn’t talked about college in years. None of them really know what Alan’s thinking about it, and Scott’s been meaning to talk to him about it for a few months now.

Now’s as good a time as any.

Alan freezes, clearly surprised. He shakes it off fairly quickly, and says, “I don’t know. Maybe? I haven’t really thought about it.”

Scott blinks, because that is blatantly a lie. Alan’s not a bad liar, but Scott can usually see right through him. And right now, Alan is straight up lying to him. That’s not exactly a good sign.

“You wanna try again?” he says. “This time with the truth?”

Alan doesn’t even bother trying to argue. He just slumps back down against the couch and says, “Okay, I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

“And?” Scott prompts when he doesn’t continue.

Alan shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Apparently Alan’s going to make this difficult. “Do you want to go?”

In all honesty, Scott doesn’t know the answer. Alan’s smart. Alan’s _really_ smart. Scott has a theory that Alan’s more intelligent than he’ll ever let them know. Alan _absorbs_ information, always has. He learns fast and he has a good memory. He only complains about school work when it stops him from going on missions. He’s a damn astronaut and has been since he was _twelve_. He could easily handle college.

On the other hand, Alan loves piloting, and going to college would mean he’d have to step down as Thunderbird Three’s main pilot for a while. And Alan’s not really a normal kid and never has been. He hasn’t been around kids his age for a while. Maybe it’s not the best idea for while.

That’s not Scott’s choice, though, and he won’t take that from Alan.

Alan sighs. “I don’t - yes? Maybe?”

He sounds frustrated. Scott wonders what can of worms he’s just opened and says, “Okay. Let’s try this: what reasons do you want to go?”

Alan rolls his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m bored and you’re the only one here,” Scott says, which at least gets a smile out of Alan. “No, Al, I’m serious. I’ve been meaning to bring this up for a while anyway.”

Alan makes a face. “Fine. To learn.”

Scott nods. “Okay, that’s one reason. A good one, even. I know you have more than that.”

Alan groans. “Really?”

Scott’s not going to budge. “Come onnnn, Alan, I know you have moooore.”

“How many painkillers have you had today?” Alan asks.

“Only one,” Scott says. “Grandma made me. Stop deflecting.”

Alan throws up his hands. “Okay! Whatever! I want to go because I _want_ to, okay? You guys have all done the actual high school things, like proms and football games and being in dumb plays and detentions and making yourself look stupid in front of someone you like! I haven’t, okay? And I just -.”

Alan cuts himself off, looking more upset than Scott had been prepared for. This has apparently been coming for a while. And it doesn’t look like Alan’s done either, but he shakes his head.

“It’s stupid,” he says.

“It’s not,” Scott says. “It’s _not_ stupid, Alan.”

 _God_. Scott hates this situation. Alan being brought into International Rescue was more of a desperate move at the time that Scott had almost immediately regretted. He couldn’t take it back, though, not after how well Alan had performed and not after realizing just how badly they’d _needed_ that extra person.

Alan had been excited, had handled everything pretty well. Scott had worked it out, scheduling it so Alan had more time off than the rest of them, that he had time to work on his school work and play video games. He’s offered to take Alan off the island several times, just to mess around or something, and Alan turns him down about eighty percent of the time. He’d had friends from school when he’d gone on the mainland, but none that he’d really kept in touch with, and he didn’t seem to care.

But still, Scott should have seen this coming. He should have known. Alan’s not exactly hard to read. He really should have known before now.

“It _is_ stupid!” Alan says. “I fly a rocket! I’ve been to Mars! I’ve been to _Europa_! I’ve set how many space records, and I get to travel all over the world and help people. I fly a _rocket_. That’s really cool! And I love it. So I don’t know _why_ I want to go to college so bad!”

“Because you’re still a kid!” Scott says and holds up his hand before Alan can say anything. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. You _are_. You’re almost eighteen. You _do_ fly a rocket and you fly it really well, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still a kid. And our job is a lot of pressure. It’s hard work and it’s pretty rewarding but it can also _suck._ I don’t blame you for wanting a little normal in your life.”

“But I don’t need college,” Alan points out.

“So?” Scott says. “Alan. Do you _want_ to go to college?”

“I -,” Alan hesitates. “But Thunderbird Three.”

“Alan,” Scott says, more firmly this time. “Do you want to go to college?”

Alan stares at him for a moment, then nods. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Scott says, feeling a rush of relief. “Then we’ll work it out.”

“How?” Alan asks, sounding anxious.

“Don’t worry about it,” Scott says, even as he starts thinking about it. “Leave the logistics to me. You just figure out where you want to go. Talk to John about that, I know he’ll be thrilled.”

Alan smiles, just a small one. “Of course he will be.”

“And Alan?” Scott says.

“Yeah?”

Scott grins. “Whatever John says, he’s wrong. Stanford’s better.”

Alan’s delighted laugh in response is best thing he’s ever heard.


End file.
